


dangerous promises

by bloodandcream



Series: Ship all the Ships [138]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Alpha Benny Lafitte, Alpha Dean, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Bottom Dean, Knotting, M/M, there is a bar fight but it's pretty minor on the violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-03 18:57:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10255166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: Dean shrugs out of his leather jacket, half-hangs it over the top of the bar, lets his legs fall wide as he angles towards blue-eyes and tips his beer up to get the last of it, stretching his neck out.Maybe he’s a little drunk, and imagining what he wants, but Dean swears he can smell that mossy scent thickening. It fucking makes the loose skin of his soft knot throb.He really needs to get laid.





	

There’s a guy at the end of the bar sulking in near-shadow that Dean swears has been eyeing him since he sat down and ordered a whiskey neat. In the crowded, smoky bar it’s hard to pick up anyone’s scent unless they’re a few feet away, but Dean discreetly scoots a few barstools closer, one at a time, and he swears he can smell the peaty wet-earth scent of an alpha coming from that corner. Smells almost-rut sharp, probably the only reason Dean can pick up on it. If he’s reading this right.

After he tosses back his whiskey, he orders a beer, just so that he can purse his lips around the neck and lick at the rim of it. The guy in the corner - blue eyes, white streaked neat beard, barrel chested beast of a man - he doesn’t hold Dean’s eye for long, but Dean swears that every time he looks out at the crowd of the bar then back, blue-eyes is just looking away.

Dean shrugs out of his leather jacket, half-hangs it over the top of the bar, lets his legs fall wide as he angles towards blue-eyes and tips his beer up to get the last of it, stretching his neck out.

Maybe he’s a little drunk, and imagining what he wants, but Dean swears he can smell that mossy scent thickening. It fucking makes the loose skin of his soft knot throb.

He really needs to get laid.

Well if blue-eyes wants to play at a game of tease, Dean knows how to play. There’s a group of what looks like college boys, drunk and too loud and taking up all the space around them like they own it, playing game on game of pool and trying to goad other people into playing against them.

Dean licks his lips, catches the stranger’s eyes as he musses up his hair, then swaggers off his stool to go make an ass of himself. It’s easy to buy himself into a game, sway a little like he’s more drunk than he is, miss a few shots to make them feel confident as he hands them a win and ups the ante. Dean makes sure that he shoots from the side of the table facing blue eyes at the bar as much as he can, bending over the table so his shirt rides up and his jeans pull across his ass.

It’s a damn fine ass, even if it’s not omega-plump and takes a little more effort to get into.

One of the college kids ends up throwing in his watch to play another game with the easy-going alpha that’s too drunk to see straight, and Dean drops the act to clean house, breaks and takes the stripes, moves around the table efficiently.

At least it’s got blue-eyes watching him now, the guy’s given up on playing the ‘I’m-not-staring’ game, and Dean manages to catch his eyes a few times, makes faces at him, pouts, licks his lips.

It’s easy enough to win the second game even while Dean’s distracted by the cock he’s definitely going to get from the guy at the bar, and somehow as he’s swiping the cash and the watch from the edge of the pool table, grinning at blue-eyes, he completely misses the cheap swing the kid who just lost throws at him, catching the side of his face. The kid had been huffing about being cheated but Dean just let that roll off him like water on a duck; apparently, it wasn’t the reaction the kid was going for.

Dean ain’t done nothing wrong. Sharking someone isn’t the same as cheating.

Dean could take this kid any day, but the cheap shot knocks him to the side and Dean skids, drops and hits his head on the edge of the table. He comes back up swinging, knocks his shoulder into cheap-shot’s gut, and if there’s anything that takes second place to getting fucked rough when Dean’s in a mood like this, it’s getting into a fist fight.

Twisting around cheap-shot, taking an elbow to the ribs, Dean gets a hand on the back of his neck and slams him forward against the pool table. The other guys in the group aren’t rushing Dean, and he realizes that it’s because blue-eyes from the bar has waded over through the circling crowd and has knocked one down, his teeth bared snarling at a third he’s got by the neck.

Holy shit, Dean’s just gonna cream his pants right here.

Letting cheap-shot fall limp from his grip, the guy crawls away from the table and the bartender is yelling over the noise of the crowd that the cops have been called. Dean trots over to blue-eyes, pats him firm on the shoulder - broad, strong shoulders - and nearly gets decked when blue-eyes turns on him.

“Come on man, we gotta get out of here.”

Blinking, the guy shakes his head once and nods, says “Yeah, sure, brother.”

Pushing through the crowd, snagging his jacket still on the bar top, Dean hurries through the back hallway past the bathrooms to the back door that opens to a gravel parking lot. Once the door swings loudly shut behind him, Dean’s grabbed by the arm and spun against the rough-brick of the building.

There’s a group smoking under a parking lot light that fritzes on-off nearby and Dean senses them watching but no one says anything.

A hard thigh pushes between his, pushing Dean up on his toes and he lowers into the contact, rutting as he bares his neck and there’s teeth scraping along his pulse point, hot huff of breath tingling over his skin.

The other alpha stills, pulls back.

“You’re an alpha?”

“Yeah,” Dean pants, hands palming around the breadth of the guy’s chest around to his back, “Couldn’t smell me? Man, I could smell you through the crowd. You going into rut?”

“Mmm,” the guy blinks at him, and Dean’s almost ready to get into another fight when he says, “M’Benny, what’s your name, cher?”

“Dean.”

Shifting, Benny grabs Dean’s thighs and hefts, Dean wrapping his legs around a solid waist and christ this guy is built like a tree.

He kisses a lot gentler than Dean expected, mouth soft and hesitant until Dean opens up to him, biting at his lip goading.

“This is great,” Dean mumbles around Benny’s tongue, “But uh, cops, leaving… ring a bell…”

“Yeah.”

Benny’s hands grip his thighs tighter, and Dean feels his cock getting hard with a head-dizzying blood rush, mouths still nipping at each other until Benny lets go and Dean sets wobbly legs back down to solid earth.

“Wanna get a room?” Dean suggests, “I know just the place.”

Because he is not going to invite a strange alpha back to his apartment, and he wouldn’t expect it of Benny either. Dean doesn’t mind shelling out for a room for a good hook-up, besides, there’s a seedy joint on the outskirts of town that charges by the hour. And if Dean still wants a little company after, they can get waffles down the road at Wally’s.

“Sure, darlin’. I’ll follow you.”

Dean winks, slaps Benny’s ass and doesn’t stick around for the shocked look as he saunters across the lot to his baby, starting her up and pulling to the edge of the parking lot waiting for the pair of headlights from a beat up old truck that stop behind him.

It’s only a ten minute ride down the state freeway and dark side streets flanked by corn fields, moon half full hiding behind fast-moving clouds, before Dean’s pulling into the ‘Courtesy Inn’. He doesn’t wait for Benny to park and get out before he makes his way to the office, passes over his ID and enough cash for three hours. The dark skinned guy behind the desk recognizes him, face impassive as Dean leans on the counter.

Benny, just getting to the door to the lobby, reaches a hand around Dean’s back to settle on his waist as Dean leads him back across the parking lot to the other side of the courtyard where room number seventeen is.

“Cozy place,” Benny comments.

It’s easier to hear his accent in the mostly quiet night with only the hum of the ice-machine, a bug light somewhere, and someone getting well fucked a couple of rooms down from them. A southern drawl, thick like molasses, soft and gentle and Dean wants to know what’s gonna come out of that mouth when Benny’s buried balls deep in him.

“It’s not so bad. Shower water is always hot.”

Benny hums, hand falling to Dean’s ass as he gets the door unlocked. Light flicked on - Dean wants to see what he’s getting - his jacket is thrown on the desk at the foot of a single queen bed and he’s just got one shoe kicked off when Benny wraps a strong arm around him and spins him, pins him to the wall by the door and ruts against him. There’s the promise of a monster of a cock in those jeans, hips rubbing against his, and Dean is quick to get hard again as Benny kisses him rougher this time.

Dean gets a hold on Benny’s belt, whips it open and yanks his jeans down. Shoving at a hip, Dean pushes him backward towards the bed. Pulling his shirts off, Dean tosses them to the side and Benny’s reaching up for him, hooking fingers in the waist of his jeans to get them undone and pull him down on the bed.

His scent’s turned deeper, rich and loamy, and Dean wants to fucking bury himself in it. Shoving Benny back, the other alpha gets his hands under him and scoots up the bed as Dean wiggles out of his jeans and hops on. Soon as his knees hit the bouncing mattress, Benny shoves up and over, tossing Dean onto his back and pinning him. One broad hand spread over his breast-bone, the heavy weight of dense-muscle and alpha strength gets Dean’s cock dripping.

“Can you take a knot, cher?”

One-handed, Benny pushes his jeans and underwear down, kicking them off the edge of the bed. His cock is fat and the wide band of reddening skin around the base promises a knot that’ll definitely hurt and Dean really, really wants it.

“Shit, you better not tease me with it.”

Benny strokes his hand down, over Dean’s shivering belly, gets a callous-rough hand wrapped around his cock and tugs a few times before moving lower, squeezing his balls, fingers brushing along the soft-haired skin of his taint. Dean rolls his hips up, hands reaching for Benny’s shoulders, pulling him down.

Skipping his lips, Benny mouths along his jaw, nosing down his neck huffing, lips dragging over stubble before his tongue licks out against a spot above his shoulder at the pulse point, just before Benny latches his teeth there and sucks.

Dean groans, blunt fingernails dragging down Benny’s broad back, hips hips shoving up rutting their cocks together greedy for friction.

As soon as Benny’s weight eases, hands soothing circles over Dean’s hips, Dean gets his legs clutched around Benny’s waist and jerks, unsettling him and rolling him over. Sitting up, licking his lips, Dean shimmies his naked ass down Benny’s lap and his thighs.

“First, I wanna get a taste of this.”

There are just some cocks that deserve a little worship, and this is one of them. Besides, Dean likes the challenge. He’s not sure if his jaw will unhinge wide enough to take this, but he fucking wants it.

Benny snorts, pats his own chest. “Come up here.” Half-sitting, propping himself on an elbow as Dean curls over him and licks at the crown of his cock, Benny sighs and asks, “Did y’bring lube?”

“Uh, yeah, shit hold on.”

Stroking Benny’s cock and reluctant to get off the bed - god, Dean can’t even close his hand around it and touch finger to thumb - Dean tears himself away to rifle through his jeans pockets for alpha-condoms and a little single-serve pack of lube.

Benny stacks a few pillows together and makes himself comfy, Dean straddling his chest backward and passing a lube-pack to Benny.

“Take your time, chief, gonna make sure you’re good and loose before we move on.”

Rolling his hips, smearing pre-come against the thick-hair across Benny’s belly, Dean wiggles his ass and leans over, bracing his elbows on the bed and getting back to sucking that cock. Benny’s fingers are gentle and sure between his legs, rubbing circles over his hole and teasing it to interest before he even gets a lube-slick tip pushed inside.

Resting his weight on Benny, Dean sucks on the head of his cock and plays with his balls, rutting against Benny and pushing his ass back for more. Teeth nip at the insides of his thigh, suck tender bruises up to the crease of his ass, sink into the meat of it as Benny opens him on thick fingers.

Dean’s drooling, mouth watering in anticipation and for the length of cock holding his jaw wide, sloppy wet down the length of it as he fucks his fist in a circle over it, plenty that his mouth can’t reach. Benny bends his legs up, plants his feet on the bed and rocks his hips to fuck Dean’s mouth and Dean goes slack for it. Braces his hands on Benny’s thighs, bobs down to meet him.

It’s kind of hard to put any thought into the awesome technique Dean has cultivated over many sexual conquests, when there’s at least three fingers - four, maybe? - massaging at his insides and relentless against his prostate, dick leaking on Benny’s stomach like Dean’s some omega in heat and he doesn’t even care.

The hand stroking up and down one thigh claps over his ass, pulls his cheek wide, and there’s the wet-heat of a tongue squirming in alongside those fingers and Dean loses it. Choking on Benny’s cock, Dean shudders full body with the wash of heat that subsumes him, comes in thick spurts all over Benny’s stomach. His half-popped knot twitches against air, deflating quickly. 

“There you go, now you’re ready darlin’.”

Pulling off his spit sloppy dick, Dean twists around, “Ungh, I was saving that.”

“It’ll be easier this way.”

Boneless, knees aching faintly, Dean pushes up and shifts a leg over Benny to straddle him. Gets the condom unrolled on his dick, making sure it sits under the swelling blood-thick skin of his half-hard knot and yeah, shit yeah being relaxed for that is good. Dean’s ready to ride and he’s got both hands planted on Benny’s - very sticky - chest, when the other flips him up and onto his back.

Dean will never admit to anyone how much it turns him on when another alpha is strong enough to throw him around like that, but he might be out of it enough to whimper.

“Easy there,” Benny soothes.

“M’good, c’mon.”

Dean grabs at warm shoulders, hitches his legs higher, cock going soft and he’s too lax to give resistance when the wide head slides into him, sinking slowly deeper and it just fucking goes on for miles. Dean’s squirming, sweat trickling into his hairline and the sheets, legs shifted up over Benny’s shoulders and his toes and curled against the corded muscle of that back, and Benny’s pressing kisses against his forehead as Dean gasps.

“There you go.”

“Shit… shit, fuck me…”

Benny eases back, sits up and spreads his hands against the backs of Dean’s thighs to bend him almost in half and he’d complain if he could form a coherent word but Benny starts fucking him like he’s an omega made for it and Dean screws his eyes tight, white spots star-bursting against the red of his eyelids, air fucked out of his lungs.

Gasping, Dean shifts his legs wider, breathes easier, doesn’t even recognize the noises that Benny’s fucking out of him. The other alpha grunts as he ruts faster, circles an arm under Dean’s waist and curls over him, hauls his hips higher and that hardening knot starts pushing against Dean’s rim merciless.

It feels like Dean’s cock is trying to come back to life but it’s not getting hard again, throbs half-full and keeps dripping, can’t not to take interest with the wide stretch of Benny in him, that pressure and ache that hums in time to his pulse from the tips of his fingers to his toes. Dean gets both arms wrapped around Benny, the other’s face buried in his neck now, and he holds on for dear life.

The room smells like scorched earth and spunk, Dean feels high on it, stained water-spots on the ceiling above them swimming in his vision.

His rim is forced wide as the alpha’s knot shoves in and it sends a cramp up into Dean’s belly that hurts keenly, slowly subsides into an overwhelming pleasure as they’re locked together and Benny’s cock is so fucking deep Dean can’t feel anything else. It’s molten hot, stomach seizing as Benny’s cock swells a fraction more, fills the condom as he bites his way roughly across Dean’s shoulders, skin buzzing and his mind is fritzed.

Gentle hands ease his legs down, just to around Benny’s waist while they’re knotted together, and Dean takes a shuddering breath of air, body quick to wake back up and catalog all the burning aches and the pulse of bruises littering his body. Benny, holding his own weight up on his arms, hovers over Dean’s face with a concerned smiled. A thumb brushes across his cheek under his eye and Dean realizes that yeah, it might of gotten so intense he started crying a little. Can’t fault a guy when he’s getting fucked numb.

“Holy shit,” his voice is raspy and broken, and Dean is glad he doesn’t have work tomorrow.

“Everything alright, cher?”

“Yeah.” Looping an arm around Benny’s neck, Dean pulls him down, kisses open mouthed while they’re both panting, scratches along the short hair at the back of Benny’s skull and cups a hand around the shape of it while Dean gives a little roll to his hips, grinding against Benny’s pelvis.

“Where’d you come from?”

Benny sounds a little too smitten for Dean’s liking, and sure, he really wants to see the other alpha again, but that kind of tone usually sets Dean running for the hills. Something heavy clutches in his chest, but Dean smiles, rubs his nose against Benny’s.

“From Lou’s Grill. I fucked you so stupid you got amnesia?”

Benny huffs a breathy laugh, drags a hand down Dean’s chest and his breath catches when Benny circles around a nipple.

“Smartass.”

Dean hums his agreement, body temperature dropping but Benny’s radiating heat, kinda gross with drying sweat and spunk, the shower calling Dean’s name but maybe they could take one together, kiss a little more. Soon as this fucking fist sized knot goes down.

“You wanna get waffles at Wally’s, down the road?” Dean asks, quiet in the hush of their room.

“Sure,” Benny nods, dropping to nose at Dean’s neck again, lick along the shell of his ear and Dean shivers.

“M’gonna need a fucking pillow to sit on.”

Benny’s eyes are bright, short hair rucked up funny, and his scent’s mellowed out to something like sage as sits up and tests the pull of his knot.

“Anythin’ you want,” Benny tells him.

“Man, that’s a dangerous promise to make.”

“I have a feeling it’ll be worth it.”


End file.
